


settle down (it'll all be clear)

by professionalfangirl



Category: One Direction
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bullying, M/M, Past Abuse, foster home au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:58:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professionalfangirl/pseuds/professionalfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And then they were there, in front of a two-story townhouse with a skateboard tossed haphazardly on the sidewalk and a football in the grass.  Liam clutched his bag for all he was worth, suddenly very nervous.  What if this foster home was worse than the last? What if the boys here hated him? What if they hurt him, or didn’t feed him, or locked him up? </p><p>or </p><p> </p><p>a foster home au where Louis is very responsible, Zayn's quiet but he doesn't mean to be, Niall likes Liam, Harry has no tact, and Liam's just trying to figure them all out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I've posted on here. I've written about three chapters so far. Hopefully you like it. The first chapter might be a little slow, but it's because I'm setting things up for the story.

            The call came on a Friday night, and it was Niall who bounced up from the couch to grab the phone.  “Hello?” he asked, cradling the phone between his shoulder and his ear.  He made a wild gesture towards the TV with his hands, an indication that one of the boys should pause the movie. Louis grabbed the remote to do so.

            “Niall? It’s Ed, from the fostering agency.  Can I speak to Mrs. Craig, please?” Niall’s eyes widened as he remembered the last time Ed had called.  It was when Harry had joined the household. 

            “Mum! Phone!” Niall shouted up the stairs.  Mrs. Craig wasn’t his biological mum, but she was his mum in all the ways that counted.  She had taken care of him and his foster brothers since he was really little, and she deserved the title of ‘mum’ in his opinion.

            “What is it, Niall?” Mrs. Craig came down the stairs, looking rather tired. Niall didn’t blame her; he would be tired, too, if he had to take care of four boys all the time. She took the phone from him and pressed it to her ear before taking it to another room.

            “Who was it?” Harry asked, bouncing on Niall as soon as he’d sat back on the couch. 

            Niall tickled the six year old for a second.  “You remember Ed, right? He brought you here? You were really small then, so you might not. But I bet Louis and Zayn remember him.  I do.”

            Zayn nodded. He hadn’t talked at all when he’d first arrived at Mrs. Craig’s.  He certainly talked more now, but he was still the quiet one of the bunch.  “Yeah,” Zayn said, “I remember him.” Nearly four years ago, Ed had stopped by for a visit with Zayn’s then foster family, as social workers often do. Zayn answered the door, covered in bruises in the shape of large hands.  The young boy had tried to blame it on school bullies, but Ed wasn’t stupid. He’d removed Zayn from the house, and the boy had been dropped off at Mrs. Craig’s immediately after.

          “I do, too,” Louis said, and of course he did.  It was only a little over two years ago when Ed had brought him here. His parents had gone away on a trip and left him alone.  He was 13 at the time, and, though his parents figured this was a reasonable age for him to be left unattended with four younger sisters, the neighbors did not see it that way.  When Louis’ parents hadn’t come back after a very, very long time, the state was called. All five of the Tomlinson children were taken to different foster homes with promises that visits could be arranged.  Ed had brought Louis here. 

            Niall had come shortly after Zayn, a five year old little boy whose parents had died in a car accident.  He didn’t really remember much of his parents, but it didn’t bother him as much as it probably should have. He had Mrs. Craig and the boys.

            “I don’t remember him,” Harry declared, looking quite upset at being left out of all the remembering. He was only four when he’d come.  His dad had left the picture before he was born, and his mum had gotten too sick to care for him.  Ed had picked Harry up at the hospital when his mum was pronounced dead. Harry didn’t remember much of it, which everyone thought was probably for the better.

            “You don’t, Haz? Flaming red hair? Loads of tattoos?” Louis questioned, picking up the smaller boy. Louis had always found it funny that Ed was a social worker.  He looked more like he should be the lead singer of a rock band or something. 

            Mrs. Craig came back in then and placed the phone back in its receiver.  She looked at the four boys, a tangle of limbs on the oversized couch.  “Louis, dear, go get some clean sheets and make up the extra bed in your room, please.  We have another boy joining us for the time being.”            

            “Sure,” Louis responded softly, handing Harry to Zayn as he stood up. 

           

            “You’ll like them, Liam, I promise.  And you’ll be safe.  I’m sorry for what’s happened.  I feel absolutely awful.  I should have checked up on you sooner.  This really was an oversight on my part.  It never should have happened, and it never will again. I promise you,” Ed was rambling as he drove the familiar path to Mrs. Craig’s house.

            “It’s okay,” Liam mumbled, keeping his eyes on the road as it stretched beneath him.  It really was okay.  It wasn’t the worst foster home he’d ever been in.  There had been plenty of homes where he’d been pushed around.  This was just the first time the foster parents had been caught laying their hands on Liam. 

            Ed hit the brake particularly hard, and Liam flinched as the man turned an angry stare on him.  “It’s not okay, Liam.  Do you understand? I trusted the Robinsons to take care of you.  They _hurt_ you.  It’s never okay for anyone to hurt you,” Ed said, not waiting to see if Liam processed the information before he started driving again.

            “I didn’t finish my homework on time, and he really didn’t mean to.  He’d had a few drinks, but it’s usually not that bad, I promise, Ed,” Liam protested.  It’s not that he wanted to go back to the Robinsons.  They’d treated him terribly, but at least he was the only kid in the house.  The house Liam was going to now already had four boys in it, and Liam didn’t even want to think of what they could do to him should they decide they disliked him.

            “Liam, you will never be going back there.  George Robinson put his hands around your neck.  Look at you.  You’ve got bruises all over.  He beat you for not finishing your homework, and you’re going to sit here and try to justify his actions? No.  You’ll be living with Mrs. Craig and the boys until we can find a more permanent placement for you,” Ed responded, his tone harsh. 

            And then they were there, in front of a two-story townhouse with a skateboard tossed haphazardly on the sidewalk and a football in the grass.  Liam clutched his bag for all he was worth, suddenly very nervous.  What if this foster home was worse than the last? What if the boys here hated him? What if they hurt him, or didn’t feed him, or locked him up?

            “Come on.  You’re gonna be okay, mate,” Ed said, and steering the young boy by his shoulder (carefully, because Liam had a bruise there) the two made it up the front walk.  Ed knocked on the door.  There was some clambering in the house, and then a blond boy answered the door, an older woman standing behind him. 

            “Hi, Ed.  Hi, Liam.  Come inside, then,” the boy said in an excited voice, and Liam could feel himself being studied. 

            “I’m Mrs. Craig,” the older woman said, extending her hand for a shake, “It’s good to meet you, Liam.  The rest of the boys are in the living room.” With Ed’s hand still resting lightly on his shoulder, the group moved into the living room where three boys sat on the sofa watching a movie.

            “I’m Louis,” said the tallest boy, popping up from the sofa and shaking Liam’s hand.  “It’s nice to meet you, mate.  I’m 15. You’re going to stay in my room.  Hope that’s okay.”

            Liam nodded quickly, not wanting to get on the older boy’s bad side so soon after his arrival.  The thought of sharing a room with someone seven years older than him had him in a bit of a panic. “Y-yes,” he said, averting his eyes.  “Nice to meet you.”

            “What happened to your face?” The littlest boy asked Liam, curly hair flopping in his face as he looked up.  A silence fell on the room.  Liam sputtered for a second.  He didn’t know how to answer.  Should he tell the boy about how he’d gotten his black eye and split lip?

            Liam was saved from having to answer by the boy he assumed to be the second oldest.  “Haz,” the dark haired boy admonished.  Then he stuck out his hand.  “I’m Zayn.  I’m 12. The little one’s Harry.  He’s six.”

            “I’m not little!” Harry protested, but he was, really.  “Niall’s only a little bit older!” 

            “I’m two years older!” Niall interjected, looking to Liam.  “How old are you, Liam?”

            “I’m eight,” Liam said, offering up no other information.  Niall’s eyes lit up because he, too, was eight.  Finally he would have someone to pull pranks on the boys with.

            “Alright, boys.  I’m going to go have a little talk with Ed, here.  Can you five manage?” Mrs. Craig asked, the boys nodding immediately.  Liam was more tentative, though.  He didn’t particularly want to be left alone with four boys.  Their combined body strength would be too much for Liam if they decided to attack him.   It wouldn’t be the first time Liam had been hurt by foster siblings. He’d come to expect it at this point, honestly.

            He watched Mrs. Craig and Ed walk from the room.  When they were gone, Liam stiffened and turned back to the boys, eyeing Louis carefully.  He was the oldest, after all.  The rest of the boys would surely follow his lead.

            Louis smiled, and picked Harry up.  “Let’s finish the movie.  Liam, how do you feel about Toy Story?” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> omfg so much angst I'm so sorry. also it's really short. I promise they'll get longer.

The boys finished the movie at 8:30, and by that time Mrs. Craig had let Ed out with a promise to call him soon. She was sitting in the chair opposite of the TV, glancing at the movie every once in a while as she read her book. The boys were all on the couch, even Liam, though he sat scrunched up in the corner so as not to make physical contact with anyone. He looked as if he was on the verge of a panic attack. Zayn had his head on Louis’ lap and his feet on Niall’s. Niall was cuddled up next to Harry. 

“Alright, boys,” Mrs. Craig said when the movie ended and the credits rolled. “Time for Harry to go to bed now. Say goodnight.” 

Harry almost protested, but Louis patted him. “Come on, Harry. Let’s see how many minutes it takes you to get ready for bed. Brush your teeth remember. I’m counting.” And then Harry was off, speeding up the stairs and through the house to the bathroom. 

“Thank you, Louis. Liam, dear, did you get a chance to eat before you got here? I could make you a sandwich if you like,” Mrs. Craig offered, switching off the TV. “Enough TV for tonight, boys. The three of you have been planted in front of this thing since you got home from school. Go play a game or something. Liam, sandwich?” 

Liam figured he might as well eat while he was still being offered food. That would change soon, he knew, so he would take what he could get. “Yes, ma’am. I-I could make it if you’ll just tell me where-“ 

“Nonsense. You must be exhausted. It’s been quite a long day for you, hasn’t it? Just come straight through here.” That made sense that she wouldn’t trust him in the kitchen alone. Liam knew she was probably worried he would steal food that was meant for the other boys. 

She made him cheese on toast and directed him to sit at the table with her as she nursed a cup of tea. Liam hadn’t realized how truly hungry he was; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a meal that wasn’t a cafeteria lunch. He ate with one arm curled around his plate, head down so as not to set Mrs. Craig off. The Robinsons got angry if he made direct eye contact with them, and they often took his food away as punishment. “Slow down, Liam,” she said calmly, and Liam realized how fast he’d been eating. “No one’s going to take your food, dear. You can eat at your pace. I promise you. Can you look at me, dear? We need to talk about some things.” 

“I’m sorry,” Liam said quickly, and she ignored his apology, which made him uneasy. 

“You’re going to be safe here, you understand? I’m never going to hurt you or take food away from you. As long as you’re here, I’m going to take care of you. Those boys upstairs are good boys. If you let them, they’ll take care of you, too,” Mrs. Craig said evenly, sipping her tea. 

Liam could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. No one had ever been so direct with him before. He knew that it wouldn’t last—one day she would hurt him, even if she didn’t mean to—but he appreciated the sentiment. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, and, having finished his meal, he began to wash not only his own dish, but also all of the dishes in the sink. 

“Stop, Liam. You’re tired, honey. We’ll go over chores and such tomorrow. Just go upstairs and get settled. It’ll all look better in the morning,” Mrs. Craig said, wrenching the plate from his hand. “Lou! Come take Liam to your room, please!” 

Louis came down the stairs, still all smiles. How a person could smile like that all the time, Liam didn’t know. “C’mon, Liam. It’s up here. I’ll give you the grand tour.” The two boys climbed the stairs and were instantly in a hallway with several doors. “This first room is Mrs. Craig’s room. Mr. Craig’s room, too, I guess. He’s never here, though. Harry and Niall live in here. Zayn’s room is right across from theirs. He lives alone because he gets nightmares a lot, and he kept waking Niall up, so. Our room is at the end of the hall, nearest the bathroom.” 

“Okay,” said Liam quietly, clutching his bag close as the two of them reached Louis’ room. “I’m sorry you have to share now. I can sleep on the couch downstairs if you want. Or-or if that’s not allowed, maybe just could I have a few blankets? I could make a bed on the floor-“ 

“Absolutely not. You’re mental. Go take a shower, mate, okay?” Louis interrupted, shaking his head. 

Liam showered as quickly as possible, using only cold water. He didn’t want to use up the hot in case Zayn, Niall, or Louis were planning on showering after him. Then he dressed, hung up his towel, and exited the bathroom, only to walk straight into Niall. “Sorry!” Liam said, trying to be quiet for the sake of a sleeping Harry. “I’m sorry, really, I didn’t see you. I’ll be more careful.” 

“You’re fine,” Niall said calmly. “You’re okay.” He had seen Zayn get like this before; the panicked look, the promises to be better, the immediate need for personal space. Niall took a step back. “I brought you some pajamas in case you didn’t have any in your bag. You’re loads skinnier than me, but they’re quite comfortable.” He held out the items of clothing hopefully. 

Liam couldn’t possibly take such nice pajamas. They weren’t meant for boys like him. He had a perfectly good shirt in his bag that he’d used for ages as PJs. “N-No. Thank you, Niall, r-really. B-but I’m okay.” 

Niall’s face fell, but he quickly regained composure. “Alright, well. We’re all in Zayn’s room if you’re up for a game of Scrabble,” he said, and then he was gone as quickly as he’d appeared. 

Liam suddenly felt like an idiot. The boy had tried to do something nice for him, and Liam turned him down. If the boys hadn’t hated Liam before—and who was he kidding, they probably did—they certainly hated him now. Why did Liam always have to mess things up? 

In Louis’ room, it wasn’t hard to figure out which bed was Liam’s. It was on the side of the room that looked as though it hadn’t been lived in. Louis’ side of the room was quite the opposite, what with the bed unmade and clothes littering the floor. Liam’s eyes widened when he saw the mess. Surely Mrs. Craig would be angry with Louis for not keeping such a nice room clean. The least Liam could do was make Louis’ bed for him, if only to avoid having to hear the inevitable punishment that would occur should Mrs. Craig discover Louis had left the room so messy. 

After neatly folding all of Louis’ clothes as a type of thanks for letting Liam share the space, Liam made the older boy’s bed. He looked uneasily about the room before awarding himself a slight nod of approval. There was a knock on the door, and Louis’ soft voice says, “You decent?” 

“Yes,” Liam responds quietly, scrambling to sit on the edge of his bed. He was sure that Louis had come to yell at him for being ungrateful about the pajamas Niall had offered. 

Louis entered the room, and his stomach dropped. Liam had folded every piece of clothing that had previously been on the floor, and he had made Louis’ bed, too. He was sitting on his own bed with his hands in his lap, a look on his face that said he expected to be scolded. “Liam, why’d you do all this?” He asked, hoping the young boy would meet his eyes. 

Liam kept his eyes trained on his hands as he murmured, “Sorry. Sorry. I, uh, I wanted to thank you somehow.” And then Louis took a step forward, hoping to comfort the younger boy and tell him that he didn’t need to thank him for something so simple. Liam flinched back violently, whispering, “Please. Sorry.” 

Louis stopped, sighed. He realized that they weren’t going to accomplish anything tonight. “Go to sleep, Liam, mate,” Louis whispered, fighting an oncoming surge of emotion. “You’re okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! I'd love your feedback and suggestions!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omg this took a really long time and it's not my best, so I'm sorry for that. It'll get there, I promise. I just wanted to really take my time and develop these relationships naturally instead of rushing them for the sake of plot. Regardless, I hope you like it. Please leave me suggestions and thanks so much for reading. Also if there's anything you want to happen in the story, leave me ideas!! I love getting new ideas to incorporate into a story!

The following weekend was one of the strangest of Liam’s young life. At Mrs. Craig’s, things were a lot different than in some of his previous foster homes. He wasn’t required to wake up any earlier than the rest of the boys, he didn’t have to make breakfast, and nobody had even hit him so far, even though he’d messed up. He even got three meals a day, which was a step up from what he was used to. But he was still uneasy. It was too good to be true, he thought. 

The boys did their best to include Liam in things over the weekend, but he politely refused to participate in anything the four of them did, from video games to a footie match in the front yard. “I-I couldn’t,” Liam said each time they offered up an activity, because he wasn’t a good boy like they were, and he didn’t deserve to play with them, pretending that he was. He simply watched as the boys interacted, as Niall laughed with Zayn and Louis ruffled Harry’s hair. He watched them and longed for a closeness he knew he didn’t deserve. 

Saturday night, after a long day of unsuccessfully trying to make Liam feel at home, Zayn called a family meeting. Liam was in the shower, and Zayn really needed to talk to the rest of the boys before he got out. “Come on, Niall. Harry, you, too. Family meeting,” Zayn said, rushing the boys into his room, where Lou was waiting. When everyone was settled he declared, “Liam didn’t play with us today, but not because he didn’t want to.” 

“How do you know?” Niall asked. He was quite hurt that Liam had refused to do anything with him today. Since they were the same age, he had expected they would become instant best mates. Niall didn’t have many friends at school, and he’d hoped Liam would remedy that. 

“I saw his face,” Zayn said. “He wanted to play, but didn’t think he could. Like me when I first got here, yeah? He’s scared, maybe.” 

“What’s there to be scared of?” Harry questioned. No one had told him why Liam had come to live with them. Mrs. Craig had barely even told the older boys. The boys were silent for a second; no one wanted to be the one to tell Harry that not all foster homes were as great as this one. 

Louis knew, as the oldest, he should probably say something, “Sometimes, Haz, when you’re in the foster system, you don’t always get placed with very nice people. Lucky for us we’re here, but other people aren’t so lucky. Liam got placed with some mean people, and they hurt him. So it might take him a bit for him to really trust people again. Do you understand?” 

Harry nodded his head, curls bobbing, “That’s not fair, though, Lou. Liam didn’t do nothing.” 

“Liam didn’t do anything,” Louis corrected softly, his heart not really in it. “And you’re right. It’s not fair, but he’s here now. We’re not gonna let him get hurt again. I promise.”

Zayn nodded. “That’s why we just have to keep trying to include him, okay? We have to let him know he’s safe. Okay?” 

The boys nodded. “Okay,” Niall said for all of them, voice full of a steeled determination. 

 

Sunday morning, Liam sat across the table from Mrs. Craig once again. The conversation was a much lighter one in comparison to the one they’d had on Friday night, which Liam greatly appreciated. “You’ll be in Year 3 with Niall, and I’m hoping that Mr. Cowell will put you in Niall’s homeroom. That’ll make the transition a bit easier, I should hope. I’ll take you down to the school tomorrow morning and we’ll get you officially enrolled.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Liam answered softly, nervous at the prospect of being the new kid once again. In the last five years he’d been in foster care, Liam had attended exactly five schools. This would be his sixth, but it wouldn’t probably be his last. 

“Alright, Liam. You can go. Thank you for being such a good sport about all this mess. I know it’s tough,” Mrs. Craig said, her voice full of sympathy. 

Liam was suddenly angry. Because no, she didn’t know anything. How could she possibly even begin to understand what this was like? Being moved from home to home, never being certain if they were going to keep you or not, and were you good enough for them, would you ever be good enough for anyone? But Liam was being ungrateful. She hadn’t even hit him, yet, and this was how he repaid her? “Okay, ma’am,” he responded softly, not meeting her eyes. 

“Liam, can I talk to you?” Niall asked from the doorway, and, god, everyone in this house always wanted to talk to Liam about something or other. Not that he minded, of course. He just wasn’t used to it. The Robinsons were quiet people, especially when they were mad at Liam. They were very fond of the silent treatment. 

“Sure, Niall,” Liam responded, and the two made their way up stairs to the room Niall and Harry shared. 

“It’s about school tomorrow, yeah? It’s just-well, I don’t want to scare you off, but, um, there are some pretty mean kids in the class. So, you might wanna stick with me and my mates. Sit with us at lunch, okay?” Niall could feel the blush creeping up his cheeks. 

Liam was unused to people trying to protect him, so it took him a moment to respond. “S-sure, Niall. Of course.” And then he, too, was blushing because that was really nice of Niall to look after him. “Thank you. T-that’s really nice of you, and you don’t have to let me sit with you-“ 

Niall hated to interrupt Liam-it was probably the most consecutive words he’d heard from the boy all weekend-but he needed to set the record straight. “Not because I have to, silly. I could use a couple more mates, you know?” 

Liam did know. He’d never had many mates; that was the price of being a foster kid that nobody wanted. When he was little Liam had tried harder to connect with people. He had been desperate for some sort of constant in his life, but moving around so much had taught him not to get attached to anyone. It only ended up hurting when the time came to move away. Still, and he didn’t know why he did it, Liam said, “Sure. I know”. It was the first personal admission he’d made in years, probably, because he wasn’t prone to admitting things that could potentially be held against him. But there he was admitting to a stranger he’d known all of three days that he, too, got lonely sometimes. What had possessed him? 

“Good. We’ll be in the same homeroom, I suppose, so we’ll have the same lunch period. I’ll look for you,” Niall said, inexplicably thrilled at the fact that Liam had agreed to sit with him at lunch. 

“Okay, Niall. Thank you,” Liam said. He tried a last ditch effort of trying to impress upon Niall that he really didn’t need to be so nice. “I don’t want to be a bother. If Mrs. Craig told you to be nice to me, I promise I won’t tell her otherwise. It’s okay.” 

Niall made a face. He hated that the other boy couldn’t even accept a nice gesture without questioning it. Couldn’t people just be nice for the sake of being nice? But it wasn’t Liam’s fault; Niall knew that. He’d been taught that no good thing came without strings attached. “She didn’t tell me to. Swear.” 

And Liam said, “Okay,” in a really quiet voice, like he still wasn’t sure. Niall could tell that Liam didn’t really believe him, but that was okay. They would get there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's still really short as of now. I'm a poetry writer usually, so I'm not really used to writing longer pieces. I will get there, I promise, and in the meantime, thanks for bearing with me.


	4. Chapter 4

Liam’s first day of school ended with him, Niall, and, Tom, a boy from the year above them, sitting outside the headmaster’s office in yellow plastic chairs. Liam was trying not to look at Niall, and Niall was glaring at the boy from Year 4. All of them had some sort of injury; Niall with a split lip, Liam with a newly forming black eye, and Tom with a bloody nose. It was all Liam’s fault, really. He had bumped into Tom, so he really did deserve the black eye. Niall shouldn’t have gotten involved. 

“Liam? I’d like to speak with you now,” Mr. Cowell said as he poked his head out into the hallway. Liam flinched and stood up quickly, Tom glaring at him as he passed. Niall tried to send him an encouraging look, but Liam avoided his eyes. He felt responsible for Niall’s involvement in the fight. 

As soon as Liam had gotten seated in the office and Mr. Cowell had shut the door behind them, the boy blurted, “Niall shouldn’t be in any trouble, sir. It was all my fault.” 

Mr. Cowell looked at Liam coolly from behind his large desk, quirking an eyebrow at the statement. “Could you explain to me how the fight started? So that I can better assess the situation?” 

And this was a test. Liam knew it was. Adults never wanted to hear Liam’s side of the story. Surely Mr. Cowell had his mind already made up about who to punish; he just wanted Liam to admit it. 

“I-I accidently knocked into Tom during lunch. He, um, obviously, didn’t like that very much,” Liam made a wild gesture towards his newly bruised eye, “And, Niall, well, he saw, and h-he punched Tom. And Tom hit back, um, and I tried to break it up, but they wouldn’t listen. I’m really sorry.” 

“Liam, I don’t know if I’m quite following. Tom was the one to throw the first punch, correct?”

Liam nodded quickly as he bit his lip, hoping that his quick answers might ease the inevitable punishment he would face. Mr. Cowell looked at him for a very long time, and Liam tried not to fidget under the intense stare. “I’m s-sorry. I should’ve watched where I was going. I didn’t mean to start a fight,” Liam said in a small voice, figuring that one more last ditch effort to apologize couldn’t hurt. 

The two sat there for a few more seconds, Mr. Cowell looking at Liam with something like pity in his eyes before the man said, “Well, alright. If you could go wait outside while I talk to Niall, please.” 

 

As they walked home that afternoon after picking up Harry, Niall looked at Liam and said firmly, “It’s not your fault. Liam. Tom’s a dick.” 

“That’s a naughty word,” Harry chided, holding Niall’s hand tightly as they walked along the sidewalk. 

“Sorry, Haz,” Niall said, but he was still looking at Liam, waiting for a response. 

But Liam wasn’t listening. He could barely hear anything over the sound of his heart beating in his ears. He was so nervous. When they got home Mrs. Craig was going to have to punish him, he knew. Liam wished he hadn’t gone and screwed things up because he really liked it here so far. Maybe Mrs. Craig wouldn’t want him anymore now that he’d started a fight. By the time the boys got home, Liam was shaking hard. 

“Come on, Haz, coat off. Mum, we’re home!” Niall helped Harry out of his coat and hung it up while Liam stood still and fidgeted. 

“In the kitchen, boys!” Mrs. Craig responded, and Harry ran to her, hoping that she was making biscuits. She was, and he grabbed one off the tray before allowing himself to be kissed on the head. “How was school? Niall, Liam, what happened? Look at your faces!” She reached forward to touch Liam’s face, and he prepared for a blow. She didn’t hit him, though. She just looked sad. 

“Both his eyes match now, mum,” Harry said, referring to the fact that Liam now sported two black eyes. 

“Shush, Harry. Why don’t you go put something on the telly while I talk to Niall and Liam?” 

“Okay,” the young boy said, stuffing two more biscuits into the pockets of his school uniform before Mrs. Craig could protest and wandering off to see what cartoons were on. 

“What happened?” Mrs. Craig sighed, handing a cookie to each of the boys and leaning back against the counter expectantly. 

Liam hesitated barely a second before he started apologizing and attempting to explain. “I-I’m sorry. I pushed Tom accidently. And he hit me and then Niall hit him and I’m sorry, I really, really am.”

“Tom’s a dick, Mum. Liam barely even nudged him. I saw it,” Niall protested immediately, and quite loudly. 

“We don’t use that word, Niall. I’m very proud of you for sticking up for Liam, but I’m also not very happy about you resorting to hitting. How do I feel about that?” 

“You shouldn’t ever hit anyone. Not even if they hit you first because then it’s a cycle,” Niall said in a bored monotone, as if he’d repeated the phrase dozens of times. Considering how easily Niall took on Tom in a fight, Liam thought it was a possibility. 

“So you broke that rule. No TV tonight or tomorrow, alright?” 

Niall sighed heavily, but he didn’t look that put out. The whole exchange only succeeded in confusing Liam. When was Mrs. Craig going to hit them? Sure, she had that no hitting rule, but that must only apply to the boys. Mrs. Craig was an adult, and the rules didn’t apply to adults. 

Liam shut his eyes as he waited for the panic to subside. He hated when the punishments were dragged out; it was much better when they were delivered quickly, so that they were over with. Mrs. Craig either wasn’t going to hit him, which Liam found to be highly unlikely, or she wanted to drag it out as long as possible. 

“Liam, can you open your eyes please?” 

He did so slowly, and Mrs. Craig and Niall were looking at him. “You didn’t do a thing wrong, Liam. Are you listening? Not a thing. That boy shouldn’t have hit you. No one should ever hit you, understand?” 

He really didn’t understand. Lots of people hit Liam. That was just how it was. It was because Liam wasn’t very good. He messed up a lot, and so he sometimes needed a reminder. That was okay. But he wanted to please Mrs. Craig, so he lied, “Yes, Ma’am.” 

“Alright, you can go. Louis and Zayn should be home soon, and then we’ll eat.” 

“C’mon, Li. You can help me with my maths,” Niall said, grabbing Liam’s arm carefully and pulling him along, up the stairs. 

 

They settled into Niall’s room to work on what little homework they’d be given the first day. When the two boys had carefully spread their papers out in front of them, Niall working on his maths while Liam struggled over English, Niall looked up suddenly. “You know she’s not gonna hit you, yeah?” The blonde said quietly, checking Liam’s face for any type of reaction. 

Liam winced at the bluntness of the question before responding softly, as if he was admitting something horrible, “I’m not very good. I deserve it if she does hit me.” 

Niall made a noise of frustration before setting his pencil down. “But she won’t hit you. She’s never hit any of us. Not even Louis, and he can be a right pain in the ass most days.” 

“Okay,” Liam said softly, because the topic of conversation was making him uncomfortable. He didn’t like talking about being hit; it was scary, and it hurt lots, and it never stopped, no matter where Ed placed him. 

Zayn needed to have a talk with Liam, Niall decided. Zayn would know what to say because he understood what had happened to Liam in his previous foster homes. He understood in a way that Niall never would, because he, too, had experienced abuse. So Zayn would have to talk to Liam and reassure him that it was safe here. Maybe then Liam would start to believe it. 

 

After dinner, which Liam fidgeted through, desperately hoping that Mrs. Craig wouldn’t change her mind and decide to punish him, Zayn asked if he could speak to the younger boy in his room. Liam knew that this was his punishment. Zayn was going to hurt him for starting the fight. But Zayn didn’t look mad as he walked with Liam up the stairs. He looked at Liam with the same expression Mr. Cowell had earlier that afternoon; there was pity in his eyes, but maybe also understanding. 

Zayn didn’t close the door when they entered his bedroom, which was oddly comforting to Liam. Usually before he was punished the door was closed and locked. “I used to get knocked around, you know, at my last foster home,” Zayn started softly, sitting on the edge of his bed and looking straight at Liam. “It happened all the time. I had a lot of bruises and stuff, like, but none of my teachers or friends said anything. And, I thought, you know, maybe I really deserve this. Maybe I’m just not good enough. Because why didn’t anybody care what was happening, yeah?” 

Liam was standing very still. He didn’t know what to make of this softly spoken confession. Zayn was describing a lot of the emotions that Liam had felt while at the Robinsons. Was he making fun? “Are you making fun of me?” Liam asked quietly, because it certainly wouldn’t have been the first time Liam had been made fun of. 

“No, God. No, Liam, of course not. I’m, well, trying to comfort you, yeah? I know you went through some of the same stuff I did. I know what it’s like, right? So I just wanted to make sure you knew I was here if you, I don’t know. If you maybe wanted to talk about it.” 

“No,” Liam said forcefully, and then again, “No. I d-don’t. Do I have to?” 

Zayn shook his head. “’Course not. But, you’re safe here, yeah? You don’t have to worry anymore, Liam. We’re gonna keep you safe.” 

And maybe Liam would deny it later, but for that one second, he let himself hope that was the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me so long, and I'm so sorry to those who waited. Hopefully it was worth it, and thank you for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck it's been a long time since my last update. Maybe since the summer. No excuses I'm just lazy.... So sorry!! It's not great but here it is. Enjoy!! A super long chapter will be coming soon. In the next few days. xx

Liam does really well in the days following his first day at school. He forces himself to stop flinching from Harry when the young boy crawls into his lap. He calms himself down when someone slams a door or raises their voice, though he notices those two things happen a lot less here than they did at the Robinsons. He reminds himself that Mrs. Craig said she wouldn’t hit him, and he tries to make himself believe it. 

Liam’s more scared of Louis than perhaps anyone else in the house. The three younger boys are completely moldable to Louis’ will, eager to please him. Liam knows that what Louis says goes, and he tries not to anger the older boy just in case. If Louis turned on him, the rest of the boys would surely follow suit. Louis has the power, and Liam doesn’t let himself forget it for a moment. 

This need to please Louis is what makes Liam offer to help with the dishes, even though it’s not his turn. “You don’t have to, Li,” Louis says good-naturedly, picking up Harry’s plate and adds it to the stack. “’Isn’t your turn, you know.” 

“I know,” Liam says simply, picking up his own plate along with Mrs. Craig’s and following the older boy into the kitchen. The dishwasher’s broken, so Louis flicks on the hot water as Liam pours soap onto all the plates. 

“Lou,” Mrs. Craig calls from the dining room, “I’m headed to the store to get some ice cream for dessert. Are you okay for a moment?”  
“I’ve got it covered, Mum,” Louis yells back, flicking soapsuds playfully at Liam, who ducks carefully and without humor. 

The TV turns on in the other room, and Liam knows the household’s routine well enough now to know that the other three boys are most certainly watching a Pixar movie. The back door swings shut as Mrs. Craig leaves for the store, and Liam scrubs the plates alongside Louis in silence. 

Until Harry comes barreling into the room, laughing loudly about the two seconds of Cars he’s seen so far. Liam jumps and feels the soapy dish he’s washing slide out of his grip and tumble to the floor. The plate shatters when it hits the tile, splinters into tiny, white ceramic pieces. Liam feels any chance he had of impressing Louis evaporate, along with his hopes of a future here. 

Frantic, Liam drops to the floor and begins to scoop up the pieces with his bare hands. His panic allows him no time to worry about the blood on his fingers. “I’ll fix it,” Liam pleads to no one in particular. “I will. I promise. I’m sorry, oh god. I’m sorry.” He may or may not be crying, but he doesn’t stop picking up the shards even so. 

“Harry, get Zayn,” Louis says in a voice so unlike his own, calm and businesslike, efficient. 

“Lou-“ 

“Now, Harry!” Louis snaps, bending to Liam’s level. Harry runs out of the kitchen. 

Liam thinks he’s having a panic attack. He feels like something heavy is sitting on his chest, like the walls are closing in, like if he doesn’t pick up every last bit of plate then that’s the end of everything good here. “Please, oh god, Louis. I’m sorry. I’ll fix it. I’m sorry, please.” 

“Liam, listen to me. I’m not going to touch you. I need you to stop picking up the plate, please, mate, you’re hurting yourself,” Louis’ voice is relaxed, but there’s an undertone of raw fear underneath that Liam can still hear. 

Zayn’s there then, pushing Louis aside and grabbing Liam’s wrists tightly. “You’re okay. I’m just going to hold your wrists, mate, and when you’re ready I need you to let go of the pieces you’re holding, yeah? Alright?” 

Liam nods, gulping a large breath and meeting Zayn’s steady eyes before reluctantly opening his fists and allowing the shards to fall the floor once again. “Sorry,” he whimpers again, but Zayn’s not listening. 

“Niall, get the med kit, yeah?” The dark haired boy calls quietly, and soon Niall has materialized beside Liam.  
Louis gently takes one of Liam’s hands in his own, clicking his tongue in quiet sympathy as he scrubs the blood from Liam’s cut palm. Zayn treats Liam’s other hand in much of the same manner, though he is more clinical in his approach. Zayn seems to have detached himself from the situation; he’s just going through the motions as if he’s done this a million times before. 

Niall sweeps the shards off the kitchen floor into the bin, eyes downcast and sad as he does so. “It’s just a plate,” he says softly. 

Liam flinches. “I’ll get you a new one. I don’t have any money, but maybe if I don’t eat that much Mrs. Craig could use my foster care allowance. I’m really so-“

“No.” Zayn snips, “No more ‘sorry’. Not with us.” 

 

When Mrs. Craig comes home, Liam hides his wrapped hands behind his back as Niall takes the fall for the broken plate. Niall had insisted on taking the blame, eager to prove that Mrs. Craig wouldn’t be angry for the mishap. 

“I broke a plate, Mum,” Niall says casually as he helps bring the ice cream inside from the car. Liam takes a sharp breath, but Mrs. Craig barely acknowledges the statement. 

“You cleaned it up, then?” She asks, setting down a carton of chocolate on the counter and searches in the drawers for a scooper. 

“Yup,” Niall quips. He begins to pry off the top off the ice cream carton, intent on getting the first, coldest scoop. Mrs. Craig swats his fingers, but she’s smiling. 

“Alright then. Be more careful, would you, Niall? Who wants chocolate?” 

Harry yelps in excitement, falls over himself in his haste to get to Mrs. Craig’s side and get some ice cream. Louis helps him up and laughs, and Liam feels some of the tension draining from his body. Niall smiles at him from across the room, and it’s all okay. For now.


End file.
